Dragon God Chronicles I: Falling Star
by Jessi D
Summary: What would happen if a god fell from immortality? Tiamet my OWN god learns that there are many who seek to control his power and a few lessons about mortals.
1. Chapter I

I do own Forgotten Realms. All the charaters are mine however.  
  
This is the third rewrite of my Dragon Chronicles (don't look at me like that Gwen6) and hopefully I'll get to finish this one.  
  
Far, far away from the world of Aber-Troil, beyond that plane of existance entirely was Mount Celestia.  
  
It stabbed upwards from a shimmering sea of holy water, streching up to a starry sky. Against the celestial tapestry was silouetted a massive beast.  
  
It desended, heading for Mercuria the Golden Heaven, the second layer of Mount Celestia. The light from the night sky illuminated it.  
  
It was a dragon... of sorts. It was much larger than any dragon on Faerun, that was true, but its strange apperence came from the fact that it appeared to be made from many different kinds of dragon melded together.  
  
Five heads scanned the air and ground in all directions. Each one was a different metallic dragon's head, one gold, one silver, one bronze, one copper and one brass. The scales on its body merged to form a platinum colour with a hint of gold. A wyvern spur was attached to the end of the tail and five ivory claws adorned each paw. Other claws decorated the wing joints.  
  
No one on Mercuria though him strange for he was in fact Tiamet, God of Dragons, wearing just one of his many guises.  
  
He landed, with surprising grace for a creature of his bulk, and survyed his kingdom.  
  
In the golden light that suffused everything here dragons of all kinds went about their daily business. They were Tiamet's pentioners, worshippers that had died and passed on to their eternal reward. The slopes flowed gently down towards the first layer of the mountain and small streches of flat land held settlement of archons.  
  
It was only went Tiamet's eyes settled on the north flank of Mercuria that a faint amount of anger flared up. The north side looked as though a battle had raged there. A long time ago one had. The golden light did not pentrate this place and both Tiamet's pentioner's and the resident archons avoided it. This was a desolate place, everything was grey and dead. Strewn about the slopes were ruins, ranging from archon villages to the massive glittering shell that had one been a sudstantional protion of Tiamet's palace. The rest of the palace was embedded in the soil, shining spars of anicent treasures.  
  
It was called the Grave of the Dragon Gods.  
  
Tiamet shook his head and took to the air agian, this time heading for a dip in the slopes where a lake of holy water had collected. Shedding his five-headed guise, the dragon god waded into the water as a bronze dragon.  
  
As he luxuirated in the lake other facets of his mind answered his worshipper's questions, granted his clerics spells and ensure that the dragon race was still functioning.  
  
Abruptly one facet noted that several of his worshippers were being attacked. After a moment's consideration Tiamet decided to go there himself, just to strengthen the faith of his worshippers.  
  
As he lifted himself into the air with a great flap of his wings he changed his form yet again, into one more appealing to these worshipper's nature. In seconds a black dragon burst onto the landscape of Faerun.  
  
The air was cool here were the wind blew off the mountains, bringing the snows with it. The trees below were lightly dusted with icy powder... but there were no dragons.  
  
Tiamet growled in irritation as he flew around the perimeter of the forest, putting it down to a practical joke.  
  
He beat his wings once, sending himself toward the portal he left behind in his passing, his mind already working at the mental locks he'd placed there.  
  
All of a sudden pain lanced through his body. Tiamet dropped like a stone, despite the frantic beating of his wings. He hit the trees, sending anicent oaks scattering as his body spasmed in pain. Unbelievable agony enfused every particle of his being and he roared. Tiamet's body began to shrink,  
  
"No... no. Noooo!"  
  
As quickly as it had come the pain faded, leaving only a memory. Tiamet growled and struggled to get all four legs underneath himself to stand. Unable to move he lay on the ground. As he moved a paw over his eyes he saw something that made him gasp.  
  
A mammal hand... a pale, pathetic mammal hand!  
  
What did he do to deserve such a fate? It was like being blind and nearly deaf...  
  
Limited to five senses...  
  
Cut off from his home...  
  
He knew what had happened though the thought made him want to curl up and cry. He had been made mortal. Could this be a second Time of Troubles?  
  
Shaking he managed to get to his knees by clinging to a tree truck. A pool of water was nearby and he peered into it.  
  
A mammal's face stared back.  
  
Tiamet screamed. 


	2. Chapter II

Do not own Forgotten Realms.  
  
Jessi: Romance in this chapter people.  
  
Tiamet: Hard to write.  
  
Jessi: Especially since all my romantic experience can be fitted quite easily through the eye of a needle.  
  
Tiamet: With room to spare   
  
On the world of Aber-Troil, on the continent know as Faerun a young elf stared into the flames of a camp fire.  
  
The light flickered on her golden skin and fireflies hovered about the camp site like tiny stars, but all this was lost on Vale. Her attention was occupied by the silver, five-pointed star that lay in her hand. It was her holy symbol of Tiamet, patron god of her people.  
  
Usually the star was warm to the touch, a comforting reminder of the Lord of Wyrms' presence. Tonight, however, and for most of the day it had been as cold as ice.  
  
Vale furrowed her brow. There was no reson for this. She had been a cleric for most of her fifty years, faithfully serving the Dragon Lord.  
  
Sighing she let the star fall against her chest and looked at her two companions, twin paladins of Mystra, the human goddess of magic.  
  
"They're sleeping. It's safe to come out now," Vale addressed a seemingly- empty patch of air, which shimmered slightly.  
  
Her dark mood was lifted as the air was filled by her greatest treasure and her greatest secret.  
  
Chel's slender form was covered by a white-trimmed black cloak and robe. His hood shadowed his face, leaving only the eyes clear. They were large expressionate eyes, framed by silver lashes and were a pale blue-green in colour. The thing that struck Vale about them were that they almost always were filled with a overwhealming sorrow.  
  
She had tried to question Chel about that but it was clear that there were certain memories that were even kept from someone who shared your mind.  
  
She felt Chel's emotion's now. He was happy to see her, even if his eyes did not show it. The rest of his face, however, did show it.  
  
When he pulled his hood off Vale scolded herself for gaping like a lovestruck child but she couldn't help it.  
  
Chel's skin was silver, so very pale when compared to her own golden flesh. Her hair was blonde, so blonde that it was nearly white. Chel's was the colour of alabastar and tumbled down his back once freed of its bonds.  
  
She loved him. She had been denying herself that through out her travels... they both had... Considered a freak (an attrative freak but a freak nonetheless) he had been shunned from place to place until he became guardian to her family. For five generations he guarded the Gangardi family, becoming a familar pale shadow at the Gangardi shoulder.  
  
As she stood and reached out to embrace him, her keen ears picked up the hiss of arrows coming from the undergrowth. 


	3. Chapter III

Jessi: Just for you Gwen6.  
  
(Waves fingers in air and Chel appears)  
  
Tiamet: Done?  
  
Jessi: Almost. I do not own Forgotten Realms but the characters are of my own invention.  
  
Chel: Excuse me but what am I doing here?  
  
Jessi: Well, I have this friend right and he... (inaudiable whispers)... with chocolate sauce.  
  
Chel: O.O  
  
Jessi: Anyway on with the fic. Sorry Gwen6...  
  
Three arrows struck Chel as he pinned Vale to the floor, using himself to shield her. Vale watched as he vanished, the magical abilities he possessed taking him away to regenerate.  
  
"_Gast_!" Vale pulled herself up from the dirt, swearing loudly in her native tongue of Cymraeg. The two paladins began stirring, reaching for their swords instantly.  
  
Vale concentrated, calling upon the power that flowed in her veins... The power of a sorceress...  
  
Magic missiles sailed into the undergrowth, and screams floated up on the breeze.  
  
"_Tiamet_! Bring your wrath upon them through this, your imperfect vessel," clutching her holy symbol Vale summoned one of the strongest clerical spells she possessed, visualizing the deadly motes of golden light.  
  
A bang like a Shou cannon sounded and Vale was flung against a tree, hard. The elf's spell had failed.  
  
"But... but... Lord Tiamet... _Why_?" Vale saw the camp in front of her eyes waver and, as her world faded into black, her last though was a desperate plea to Tiamet.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Tiamet Pendragon sobbed and fell against a tree. He had heared the plea of the young elven cleric and... he had tried... He'd tried and failed.  
  
Failed his worshippers...  
  
He could hear them now, screaming, pleading... and soon... they would be dying.  
  
He dashed a hand across his leaking, mammal eyes and struck out. He would not fail this one.  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Vale came to in a cage and instantly wished she hadn't. These bandits had been unusally precise in their dealings with the magically talented.  
  
Her body was beaten and bruised, expertly so, and they had taken the holy symbol from around her neck and the daggers from her belt. Even if she had her holy symbol she doubted that she could muster the concentration needed for either clerical or sorceress magic.  
  
"You're awake. Good," her cage opened and she was hauled across the ground and onto her feet. To her suprise Vale found she could move without too much difficulty... Maybe they didn't expect her to fight.  
  
She did, however, feign weakness... the element of suprise was needed.  
  
The elf was led into the centre of a ring of bandits. Vale's heart sank.  
  
There were fifteen of them... Much too many to fight. They sat, eating the remains of a few deer carcasses, an almost feral glint in their eyes and weapon within easy reach.  
  
Their leader, a giant of a man with a possible trace of orc blood in him, stood and swaggered over to her,  
  
"Our new prize," he circled her, as though she was a horse he was deciding to buy, "You're wasted on those paladins, my pretty."  
  
Samera and Keroigar were bound and gagged, tied to a post a little way away.  
  
The bandit took her head in one massive hand,  
  
"Maybe your death won't be so swift after all."  
  
Vale smiled,  
  
"Maybe not." She lashed out, kneeing him in the crotch. As she spun to deliver a kick on his chin the other bandits were reaching for weapons, and charging toward her.  
  
Vale fought bravely and skillfully, the Church of the Dragon had taught her well, but eventually they had one man holding each limb while she was pinned, spread-eagled, on the ground. Another human reached causually for the belt holding her white robes in place.  
  
_No... Oh please... no!_ Vale shrieked in her head, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing her plea.  
  
All of a sudden a snarl filled the air and Vale's would-be-rapist was hualed aloft by a slender figure with terrible strength.  
  
The bandits shrank back and Vale didn't blame them. Chel's fighting style was plain terrifying. His alabastar hair writhed in the air like a nest of serpents and his lips were drawned back to reveal fangs.  
  
With a growl he took the bandit's head in his hands and twisted sharply. The human's head lolled loosely, the neck broken.  
  
Vale struggled to her feet as Chel turned on another. He dispatched him by fixing his fangs into the neck and tearing the throat out. He spat his bloody prize onto the floor and batted away an almost tentive sword strike.  
  
The young cleric sobbed and when a hand pushed itself into hers she did not resist as it led her away. 


	4. Chapter IV

Jessi: I no own. You no sue.  
  
Tiamet: And it was Chel who tore someone's throat out with his teeth... Not me.  
  
Jessi: And sorry for the delay.  
  
Tiamet: Wales was suffering a heat wave and her brain melted.  
  
When the hand left Vale's own she stumbled to a halt. She wiped her eyes dry on her sleeves and looked about. She was on the outskirts of the forest, the village they had left that same day.  
  
The cleric turned. A male elf stared back at her. He had very pale skin which contrasted sharply with the long midnight-black tresses and flawless emerald eyes. The robe he wore was black with white cuffs and belt.  
  
He pressed something into her hand and then began to walk back into the forest, stopping to look over his shoulder at her.  
  
Vale looked down at her palm. Her holy symbol lay there. She nodded in thanks and began to make her way down into the village. Behind her Tiamet Pendragon retreated to the shadows.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------  
  
Vale collasped trembling onto the bed, pulling the blanket gently over her poor, battered body. The inn keeper had hurried to her side as soon as Vale had staggered into the inn.  
  
Vale had no broken bones and the village had no cleric, so she had requested a room to heal herself. But just as her slaying spell had failed so had her healing spells, thankfully with less violence. So there was no choice but to curl up in the bed and await Samera and Keroigar.  
  
"Is there much pain?" a familar voice whispered into her ear, the warm breath tickling the sensative tips.  
  
The young elf nodded, not caring how Chel got in here, just relived that he was. She kept her eyes closed tightly, not trusting herself to open them and let the tears irritate the wounds.  
  
Chel's fingertips touched the back of her neck lightly, sending pulses of healing magic through her body.  
  
It was like returning to a still-warm bed. Chel's magic soothed her pain, erased the bruises from her flesh and closed the cuts. Her guardian said nothing, concentrating fully on his work.  
  
When he finally was done, he rocked back on his heels, looking exchusted from the prolonged use of his healing powers.  
  
"I let your paladin friends go and they are heading this way..."  
  
"They saw you..."  
  
"I had no choice! Had I not stepped in you would have been raped and dead by now!"  
  
Vale smiled,  
  
"I know... and I glad you did."  
  
Chel sighed and laid his head on Vale's bed,  
  
"Anyway you were the one that caused me all the worry. You vanished!"  
  
Vale remembered the pale elf leading her out and adverted her gaze away from Chel. Her guardian leant over her,  
  
"I'm just glad you're safe..." he kissed her forehead, "But don't do it again."  
  
Vale traced his jaw with one hand while the other released the scrap of material holding Chel's hair back away from his face.  
  
"Lock the door, love."  
  
Chel stood, white hair swirling about his hips, and reached for the key in the lock.  
  
Abruptly the door burst open and Samera the paladin charged in. His golden eyes widened in shock as he saw the black-clad figure that fought at the camp.  
  
Chel turned to face the paladin but Samera's dagger had already plunged into his undefended back.  
  
"_Samera! No!"_ Vale finally found her voice and the aasimar looked up at her. Chel pulled himself off the small blade and tumbled to ground, cloak still clinging to dagger hilt.  
  
Vale stood and walked over to Samera,  
  
"Please Samera... I can explain..."  
  
Samera wasn't looking at her though. He, and his twin Keroigar behind him, had returned their gaze to Chel, or more specifically, the white wings that grew out of Chel's back. Vale knew that on the shoulders of both planetouched twins white feathers grew, a mark of their divine ancestor.  
  
There was no sound in the room, except for the crackling noises as Chel's spine mended itself. Keroigar shook himself out of the trance first,  
  
"Vale... We..."  
  
He halted as the winged elf slowly got up, his back stiff.  
  
"We will discuss this in the morning..." Both paladins left the room and slammed the door shut behind them.  
  
Vale darted under Chel's arm as her guardian swayed, his powers having nearly completely drained him of energy.  
  
"I guess our secret's out Chel..."  
  
"I just hope that they take it well... For our sake..." 


	5. Chapter V

Jessi: Do not own Forgotten Realms. And Gwen6 will you please stop getting confused.  
  
Tiamet: However if you do we could make it into a feature every chapter where we answer your questions Gwen6. Anyway your question was : Why did Chel get stabbed? Answer: The paladins had never seen Chel before, Vale having kept him a secret. Suddenly he appears with fangs and claws and kills fifteen bandits single handedly, tearing out throats with teeth etc. They get free and walk back to the village to look for their friend who has vanished from the camp. When they find Vale she is injured and vunerable in the same room as this strange being they had just seen. What would you think of this situation Gwen6? Thus the stabbing.  
  
Jessi: A sensible but long winded explanation from Tiamet himself.  
  
Chel glanced down at his hands. The long clever fingers had tangled themselves in the black fabric of his robes and they trembled slightly. Smears of darker silver under his eyes marred his face.  
  
Out of all the mortal requirments, sleep was one of the few Chel needed. He'd definitely hadn't gotten enough of it last night, most of it having been spent soothing Vale.  
  
She was afraid for him, which Chel felt was entirly unnessarcary. The paladins could not permently harm him in any way. He was afraid though, for the little, blonde elf that was sat by his side. Similar smears decorated her face.  
  
Both paladins sat across from the elves and Chel couldn't help noticing that their swords were drawn and lain within arm reach. Chel was only vaguely aware of Vale's voice in the background and his head rested in his hands.  
  
"...and ever since Chel has guarded my family." She told them the story of the Finding, when her people where led out of the wilderness to their home by an avatar of Tiamet himself and of the winged elf's apperance as guardian to her family.  
  
"So he is a gift from your god?" Keroigar, the quieter of the twins, regarded Chel with no particular distrust.  
  
"I say we need prove that his intentions are honourable," Samera wasn't as trusting as his brother. Chel spoke then. No one got away with insulting his honour or purpose,  
  
"I saved Vale from rape and death and freed you two from a bandit camp... I say that I have proved myself..."  
  
Samera fixed him with a cold golden stare,  
  
"And how do we know that you didn't have a hidden agenda for that? You might have wanted Vale for yourself."  
  
Chel growled deep in his throat,  
  
"I would _never_ use her like that!" His teeth and nails lengthened into fangs and claws, ready for a fight. Samera snatched up his sword and pointed it towards Chel.  
  
Keroigar pulled Samera back, restraining his sword arm. Vale placed a hand on Chel's arm,  
  
_Please Chel. Don't fight..._  
  
Chel heeded Vale's telepathic plea and settled down again. Samera flung his blade down in disgust.  
  
"This is getting nowhere... _Please_ Samera... Chel... calm down..."  
  
The winged elf bowed his head slightly and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, taking some satisfaction at the way Samera frowned. The paladin had unsuccessfully been trying to get closer to Vale for some months now.  
  
A twig snapped behind them and Chel's head swung around in that direction, alert as always.  
  
A male elf, dressed in a tattered black robe with torn white cuffs and belt staggered into the clearing where the adventurers had been talking. A bloodied knive dropped from nerveless fingers and the stranger dropped face- first into the dirt.  
  
Vale cried out, reconizing this male. It was the elf that had led her away from the bandit camp. She got up and darted to his side.  
  
His breathing was harsh and ragged and his skin was cold. Vale couldn't see any injuries though... until she spied the crimson stream exiting his sleeve.  
  
Quickly she turned his arm over and pulled the material down. Long horizontal slits shone scarlet against what unbloodied skin was left. A quick check of the other arm revealed the same situation. This elf had slit his own wrists. 


	6. Chapter VI

**Jessi**: I do not own Forgotten Realms. And Tiamet is a nuetral aligned deity. As to why he fell... that will be explained later on in the story.

* * *

Keroigar knelt beside the elf, healing magic sweeping from his hands into the stranger's frail body. Vale sat beside him, checking for signs of infection. Her delicate fingers were seeking additional injurys.  
  
The dark lashes fluttered as Keroigar finished his work and a hint of green was visable beneath them. When Vale touched his forehead the eyes opened fully, wide with shock. Then the mouth opened and the elf screamed.  
  
Vale flinched and placed her hands over her ears. Did he want to bring the whole forest on them?  
  
In the shadows a pair of eyes narrowed in fury before their owner vanished.  
  
At that exact moment the scream was cut off. The elf sat up, his mouth working soundlessly, his hands clutching his throat.  
  
"What happened?" Vale took her hands away from her ears.  
  
Keroigar frowned and cast a healing spell on the dark-haired elf. Still no sound came from his throat. Chel left his seat and used some of his diminishing reserves of healing magic. Nothing happened but Chel swayed and had to sit back down.  
  
After Samera's unsuccessful attempt the elf wrapped his arms around his knees and sobbed silently into his robe.  
  
Vale felt usless without her clerical magic and sighed, feeling like bursting into tears herself.  
  
"We may as well set up camp here and think on this in the morning," Keroigar got to his feet and began to set up a fire.  
  


* * *

The corridor had been carved out of the bedrock many years ago with a high, arching ceiling and vast columns. These columns were carved with wicked devil faces and grusome scenes of torture. Between each pair of columns, of which there were five, was a stone dragon. These seemed to not have been made as skillfully as the rest of the decorations. Their hides looked rough and unfinished and their bared teeth were jagged and uneven. The flared wings were tattered and torn. However the eyes gleamed with malevolence that seemed to bring the statues to life.  
  
The staues were unatural in the private thoughts of the black-robed mage as he hurried along the corrdor to his Lady's chambers.  
  
When he pushed open the doors he had to duck to avoid a hurled figurine.  
  
"You _fool_! You have failed!" the Lady's eyes burnt with raw fury behind the dark mask.  
  
"B- but my Lady T-" the mage began stammering from his crouching position on the floor.  
  
"_Do not use my name!_" she looked quickly about the room, "They might be listening!"  
  
"But my Lady... We made him mortal-"  
  
"I did not want him _mortal_! I wanted him _dead_!" The Dark Lady crossed the chamber and strode over to the wide bed. On this her body slave, captured just a tenday ago, trembled in his chains. The mage had seen the moon elf being brought in, resisting every step of the way. Now however the exquisite face and slender body bore the mark of whip and dagger and he flinched whenever the Dark Lady made a move towards him.  
  
"_Dead_! I want to see his blood flow! I want to hear his screams as I _slowly_ exact my revenge!" with a shouted command her pale, dainty fingers became black talons. She drew her claws across the moon elf's face and grinned at the screams that followed.  
  
"But... but my Lady he is with four others. We do not know..."  
  
"I do not _care_!" the Dark Lady turned away from the mutilated moon elf, "Send out twenty of our troops," she turned back and licked the blood from the male elf's ruined face, relishing the saltly taste, "Bring them all back... I want their deaths to be so... _very_... _slow_."  
  
"Yes, my Lady," the mage retreated while the flames of insanity in his Lady's eyes flared brighter than ever. 


	7. Chapter VII

**Jessi:** I do not own Forgotten Realms. I do however own all the characters in this story unless I state otherwise.

* * *

Chel's wings glowed softly in the starlight. The winged elf happily landed on a high branch, barely bending it with his slight weight. He loved to fly, especially at times like this. 

The moon was sinking below the mountains. It would be a few hours until the sun would take its place so now the sky was a riot of stars as though a clumsy hand had spilt flawless jewels onto black velvet.

To Chel's keen eyes the forest was almost as clear as day and twice as quiet, making a perfect time for a flight.

Abruptly he sat up. Unless he was mistaken the whisper of chain mail through grass was not a forest sound. As silent as an owl the pale elf flew between the trees, his wingtips brushing the rough bark. What he saw almost made him fall from the sky.

Lizardmen! He would recognize the shape and build of those creatures anywhere. Even if he didn't possess his supernatural sight he would have easily smelt the feral musk.

They were hunched creatures in surprisingly well-made chain mail armour. Their head at the end of those long necks were topped with full helms that left only the blunt muzzle free. At the base of each lizardman's neck hung thick plated cords festooned with all matter of gory trophies-with even some human and elven bones among them. As if their scimitar-like claws weren't enough they were also armed with long swords. From the end of their snouts to the tip of their tails they averaged about ten feet long.

There were a total of twenty of these creatures. Twenty! In a place so many hundreds of miles from Chult, where they were usually found.

Chel had encountered these creatures several times in his unnaturally extended lifetime and, even though he last saw them many elven generations ago, he knew that they would never change their habits.

The only possible explanation for a band of lizardmen this size was that they were being hired by somebody else.

But why?

Chel's eyes widened. Vale and their companions could be in danger.

The most any lizardman ever heard was a single flap of a wing as Chel took off to warn the others.

* * *

"You know we can't keep referring to you as 'the elf' now can we?" Keroigar lounged against a boulder, a bowl of stew held in one hand. 

"Especially since you travel with two other elves now," said Vale, a soft smile on her face, the task of keeping Chel a secret finally over.

"We tried asking him about his name. But he won't write it down or anything... Maybe he doesn't understand Common."

The male elf looked up from his curled-up position by the fire as Samera laughed.

"When he's curled up by the fire like that he reminds me of mother's puesdo- dragon. Remember Kemi?"

"The name Kemi suits him," mused Keroigar as he closed his eyes.

"Vale!" Chel landed awkwardly but staggered upright again, clutching the elven cleric's arm, "Vale! We must go! Now!"

"Why? What's wrong Chel?" The winged elf was pale and he was breathing hard.

"There is a band of lizardmen heading this way... If they find you..." Chel swallowed, "You will all end up as trophies around their necks..."

Vale's eyes widened and Samera swore. Keroigar began to kick dirt onto the fire and Kemi sat bolt upright, his eyes wide with fear. Quickly she rammed the book she had been reading into her bag and scrambled to her feet. Within mintues all were prepared to leave.

All of a sudden a blood-curdling howl floated in on the breeze and an armoured figure leapt through the bushes, sword out and claws gleaming in the fire light.

"We're too late," moaned Chel as behind him the other all drew their weapons.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Jessi:** Hello again people. I'm sorry for the three-month delay, I haven't abandoned you all yet, honest. But since this is the year I'll be taking my GCSE exams I seem to have less free time than before. I'll try to update as much as I can. Thanks by the way to the anonymous reviewer who got my lazy arse in gear.

* * *

Chel leapt over Vale's head, claws and fangs extended. The lizardman barreled into him and both tumbled to the floor, the reptillan warrior trying to draw his sword and Chel's claws seeking his opponent's eyes. The lizardman roared as two claws plunged into helmet slit and it slashed blindly out at Chel, tearing deep gouges in his face before the winged elf could snap its neck.

Other lizardmen were emerging from the undergrowth and both paladins had their swords and shields. Vale retreated back to stand by Kemi, who was whimpering. She may not have had her clerical spells but she had other magic at her disposal.

The young elf summoned her innate sorceress powers and sent a lightning bolt into the chest of one of their opponents. Sparks travelled across the armour as a charred corpse fell limply to the floor. Vale shuddered, cursing the lack of sleep she'd had these past two nights. She could also feel Chel's fatigue, knowing the effort that he was putting into helping the paladins.

She summoned a fireball next and threw it into a small wedge of lizardmen who were trying to break the even smaller line of the paladins and Chel. They scattered and her guardian quickly dispatched those half-caught in the blast.

Abruptly a growl sounded behind her and as she turned a tail struck a solid blow across her ribs. A sickening crack sounded as Vale was flung to the floor. The young elf strained to reach her weapon, waiting for the lizardman to finish her off.

Suprisingly the finishing blow never came. Instead the reptillan warrior seized the dark-haired Kemi by his bandaged wrists and hauled him onto its chain-mail clad back. With a roar the lizardman retreated with his struggling captive, the others following, melting into the forest.

"Ch-" Vale cried out as she tried to speak, knowing that at least one rib was broken. _Chel_, she used her telepathic link with the winged elf instead, _please get him back._

_If that is want you wish Vale_, the winged elf's body shimmered and vanished. Vale smiled as one of the twins came to heal her,

_Be careful._

* * *

Chel flew amoung the trees, his pale eyes searching for the band of lizardmen. It wasn't long before he saw the trampled grass and broken twigs that left a path that a blind man could follow. 

It was maybe five mintues until Chel came across the lizardmen. They had halted in a clearing. Chel noted with a sense of grim satisfication that many were wounded and at least a third of the band had been left behind as corspes.

They were speaking to each other in their gutteral language, which Chel understood but no elven throat could ever hope to speak. He landed silently, wings folding behind his back. His long delicate fingers sprouted claws and fangs began to slide down past his bottom lip.

Kemi had been set down in the centre of the circle of lizardmen. He looked terrified, with good reason to be. His eyes rolled in their sockets, desperatly seeking a way out. One of the lizardmen saw this and grinned,

"No way out, soft-skin," he said in broken, hissing Commen. The reptillan warrior got to his feet and advanced towards Kemi, "T'Lady won't mind if you arrive a little cut up and I'm bored." He branished a handful of curved claws and a slow, sadistic grin widened on its face.

The dark-haired elf scrambled to his feet, swaying like a drunken man. A cackle escaped the lizardman and he lunged... and missed. Chel's eyes widened as Kemi leapt for a break in the line, towards freedom.

Unfortuntly for the elf another lizardman seized his ankle and the pale elf hit the ground, his mouth forming a silent cry.

"Now, holds still soft-skin..." the lizardmen closed in and Chel's body tensed, ready to spring.

"What the-" a lizardman growled, confused. Chel strained to see. Abruptly blinding light shone from the centre of the huddle... where Kemi was. Chel's pupils narrowed to slits and the winged elf screamed along with the lizardmen as the light burnt at his eyes.

Then all the winged elf knew was blackness.


	9. Chapter IX

**Jessi:** Yey! Two chapters in two days! I am on a roll!

* * *

When Chel came to the world remained stubbornly dark. He blinked several times and waved his hand in front of his eyes. Nothing happened.

A strangled cry escaped his throat. He was blind! He sat up, head shaking, as though trying to clear the darkness from his vision. Hand pressed against his heart he forced himself to calm down. For sometime afterwards, it was hard to measure the passage of time with no sight, Chel sat there while his eyes mended.

It returned, wealy at first, the world turning into a vast collection of blurs and the sunlight stinging. Finally clarity returned and the winged elf stood.

It was day, perhaps a few hours after dawn. Chel had been sitting on the ground, evidentually having fallen from the branch. Bright lances of golden light broke the forest canopy surrounding the clearing. However in the clearing the light was silver.

Kemi floated above the ground, hair writhing in the air, much like Chel's in battle. A aura of platinuim light enfused his surroundings. He appeared to be unconscious.

There was no sign of the lizardmen... almost. A solitary arm lay on the ground, cut smoothly and cleanly from its torso. Half a lizardman lay on the opposite side of the clearing, cut straight down the middle.

Chel opened his wings and flew up to where Kemi hovered. The platinium light shifted a little towards him, but Chel knew this spell. It was no threat anymore... not after it had been active for so long. He cradled the dark-haired elf against his chest, the aura fading, the light gone... almost.

Chel frowned and landed again. Supporting Kemi's head he brushed away the dark strands from his forehead.

There on the ivory-white flesh, above and between his eyes, was a softly-glowing patch shaped exactly like a five-pointed star.

The winged elf's slender fingers brushed the mark, eyes wide. It... it was impossible. Something stirred against his skin and there was a sudden warmth above his heart.

Gently setting Kemi down, Chel's hand went to his neck, his questing fingers finding the chain about his neck. He pulled on it so that the object on the end of it fell against the outside of his robes. It was a symbol of Tiamet, older than the ancient city of Myth Drannor... and it was a platinium star, with five points- now softly glowing like the identical mark on Kemi's forehead.

"Fy arglwydd..." Chel's voice was a whisper of awe.

* * *

**Jessi:** Just a quick note- "Fy arglwydd" is Welsh for "my lord".

Also if any one has seen Vampire Hunter D- Bloodlust (I got it this weekend. Great movie) the vampire Mirai is freakishly like Chel (except Chel's not a vampire). And the movie was released in 2001 the same year that the Dragon God Chronicles was born... Freaky...


	10. Chapter X

**Jessi:** Hiya everybody. I'm sorry for being late with my update but unfortunely my dog, Sammy, died this week at age sixteen-and-a-half. This being a year after my other dog, Walter, was put to sleep. I hereby decicated this story to Sammy and Walter, the best dogs a girl could hope to have.

* * *

What had taken Chel five, ten mintues at the most, to fly was taking a lot longer to walk. It didn't help that he had to carry Kemi along the lizardmen's trail.

The star remained glowing on his forehead and his emerald-green eyes were closed. His face was relaxed. That at last was a blessing after the events of the previous night. Chel stumbled along the path, all his innate elegance and grace gone in the face of his fatigue. His wingtips dragged along the ground.

He looked up. A small pool glistened in the light falling through the gaps in the canopy and the ground looked inviting. Sighing he disposited Kemi by the shore of the pool and slumped against the truck of near-by tree.

His eyelids slid downward, his long, silver lashes spreading out on his cheeks. Gently he began drifting off into sleep.

A splash pulled the winged elf immediently back into wakfulness, his claws springing from his fingers.

The dark-haired male looked bashfully up from his seat. One end of a branch was in his hand and the other had sank below the surface of the water. He'd been trying to pull himself up with it.

Chel groaned and stood. Seizing Kemi's bandaged wrist he hauled the male to his feet. The other elf swayed on his feet before grabbing Chel's arm to steady himself.

"I guess you're not used to going about on two legs yet," when Kemi looked up at Chel, eyes wide with shock, the winged elf continued, "It was pretty obvious when the star appeared on your forehead," his flawless brow creased slightly when he realised the star had gone, "Why _are _you here?"

Kemi shrugged and Chel sighed,

"Well, come on then," he caught sight of himself in the pool. His hands and mouth were stained with lizardman blood, his robes similary soiled. His wings hadn't been preened and they had picked up many twigs and other detritus from being dragged on the ground. Dark circles still marred his face and half of his thick hair had escaped from the neat plait he tied it in yesterday, "I feel the need for a bath."

* * *

Two hours later Chel walked back into the main body of the camp. His hair, still slightly damp from his bath, hung loose down his back in a heavy fall. A fresh robe, black as always, was belted securely onto his slight frame, the high collar unfastened for now, displaying his pale throat.

"Chel," Vale smiled up at him from her seat, embracing him when he drew close, "Are you alright now?"

Chel nodded,

"I just need rest Vale. Nothing to be concerned about."

He streched out for sleep, head on Vale's lap. Before his eyes closed Vale spoke again,

"Did you really kill all those lizard people single handed?"

Chel looked up, the truth already springing to his lips. Vale's face hovered above his, wide, blue eyes shining. Vale... beautiful, innocent Vale.

"...Yes... Yes I did." Vale kissed him as he settled back down, the shame of his lie already making him sick.


	11. Chapter XI

**Jessi**: Hiya everyone. Again I am so very sorry for the delays in all my fanfiction (espically Yami II). This is due to the fact that I lost my notebook (where all my fanfiction stuff resides, apart from cyberspace) and the fact that the school overloaded me with coursework, homework and revision for my mock GCSE exams. Because of these mock exams I may not be able to update for three weeks unless I find time during next week or on my days off during the fortnight that my mocks take up.

Ugh... School is hell.

* * *

Chel lay on his bedroll, his pale eyes open and his face free of the dark shadows of fatigue. His head was turned on its side so that his vision took in the blades of grass beyond his bed and his silver hand laying palm-upwards. A sigh escaped the winged elf and this drew the attention of the female sitting a short way away. 

Vale lowered the comb that she had been pulling through her golden tresses and walked to Chel's side. Though he gave no sign of having noticed her, the young cleric knew that his keen senses would have detected her approach.

She reconized the look on his face. It was one of abject sorrow and of deep depression. Though these moods were not uncommon in the avarial she had just as much effect on lifting it as she had as a child. Which is to say, none at all.

"Chel?" she venturned the question with unusal timidness. The beautiful male's only response was to sigh again and seemily sink downwards. Downwards even deepier into depression. Vale felt her eyes sting... she feared always that this would be the time that he would not rise out of it.

She knelt, careful to avoid pulling on his snowy tresses, and lifted a silken strand to her lips. She kissed it, brushing it against her cheek, so pale compared to her dark gold skin.

Still there was no responce from Chel, he was barely blinking.

Biting back a sob she lay down and, gently repositioning his wings, hugged him to her. Her hands laced together and she held on tightly as though afraid he was going to be taken from her. Tears started to make their way down her face as she relised that in a way he was being taken.

Was this it?

Was this when his mind was lost permently to the gloom of depression and pathos?

"Please don't leave me..." her voice was muffled with her mouth against his shoulder but Chel heard it as surely as he felt the tears splashing onto his delicate neck. He glanced down at the hands on his stomach, noting their white-knuckle grip on each other and on himself.

His slender fingers slid onto hers, resting lightly on her hands,

"I'm sorry..."

Vale sobbed in relief, kissing his cheek. A small, sad smile flickered onto Chel's face as he took her hands in his own.

* * *

The dark robed figure sat at a table made of polished wood. The carving were mostly scratched away by her claws but no such flaw marred the crystal ball in front of her. The scrying device threw a ghoulish light onto the demonic mask. Images flickered in the depths of theball as fleeting as the passing wind. 

The masked woman stared into the ball, searching. Her old body slave was losing his appeal to her: multilating him had been fun but soon she would tire of him altogether. His only purpose then would be to amuse her as she killed him, taking care to prolong the agony.

One image caught her eye and she centred the ball onto it. The image showed a winged elf looking out over a pool of crystal clear water. The skin had just a hint of silver to it and the eyes were just as pale, the colour of a tropical sea, a pure blue-green. The hair was grown longer than any woman'sand fell down in an alabastar tumble.

She had thought that the elf was female at first but the body shape was definetly male. The unearthly beauty was not a disadvantage though... far from it, the slit pupils and slightly longer canine teeth adding a most attractive feral edge.

Her hand reached out to touch the face of the pale elf,

"You, my pretty, will be mine. I'll make sure of it myself."

In the crystal ball Chel turned, unaware that he was being watched.


	12. Chapter XII

**Jessi**: Hey ya everyone! As part of my new drive to write as much as I can on the weekend (yey) I've written another chapter. It was delayed by the site's upgrades but it matters not!

* * *

Vale got off her horse stiffly and streched, winching at the pops and cracks that her spine made. No wonder horses had never caught on amongst her people. After fifteen years Chel still wouldn't ride one, he flew everywhere just like at home. 

Chel was currently standing at the border of the forest, almost impossible to see without elven eyes. The full body cloak once again covered him and his distinctive hair. He did not like crowds such as the one that filled the inn.

Vale, remembering the winged elf's depression, turned. Yes, he was still there. She waved to him and she could almost see those sad, pale eyes beneath the wide hood as he waved back.

* * *

Chel watched as one of the twins, he knew it was Samera by the gash on the left side of his armour, touched the young cleric's arm and lead her into the inn. Kemi was behind the paladin, as though he was using the aasimar as a shield. He looked scared. 

But then why shouldn't he be scared? After spending all his life in near-invinability it must naturally be distressing to lose that power.

The winged elf settled down, his robe spread out like a woman's gown, having no wish to join the crowds at the inn, having their eyes on him, always watching. Chel was tired of it. His hand reached up to slid underneath his collar, to touch that reminder... The reminder that he would always be hated and dispised for what he was... How many years had it been? How many years had he been carrying this reminder?

These thoughts made him to cry, but no... The large pale eyes that possessed that permanent haunted look had only shed tears once... and never would again.

* * *

"Are you sure that you'll be alright?" Vale sat with Chel on one the two beds in the room they shared. 

"Yes, Vale I am fine now," he kissed her cheek, "Go enjoy yourself."

She smiled and murmured a promise that she would, then left the room to eat with the paladins and Kemi, her cheekbones carrying a slight flush. She smiled at him as she shut the door behind her.

Chel's smile faded as soon as she was gone. He was not alright. His fustration, all the pent-up emotions had not lessened... unless. He hand went to the small knife that he always kept on his belt and drew it, noting the way the light played on its keen edge. The winged elf had always taken care of the blade.

He had promised himself... that for Vale, for everyone, that he'd _stop_ this.

But... was not his need greater than theirs? But... but...

A dream-like expression crossed Chel's lovely face as the sharp knife edge parted the silver flesh of his arm. The emotions seemed to drain away as he did this and a sigh of contentment and relief escaped him. The wound started healing as he made another cut beside it... and another... and another...

* * *

A while later Vale climbed up the stair to the inn's rooms. The crowds had dispersed now so that there were only a few patrons left, most coming from the village just down the road. Maybe Chel would join them now, even if he didn't want to eat. 

She pushed open the door,

"Chel, I..." her voice trailed off. Chel sat cross-legged on his bed. He was bare from the waist up, having discarded his robes. His right hand held a knife loosly in its grip as it made a slow journey down his chest, parting the flesh to leave a deep wound. His pale eyes seemed misty and unfocused and his head rolled slackly on the end of his delicate neck with lips parted slightly.

Abruptly he turned to face her, an expression of shock on his face, his arms going to his sides, the blade leaving the wound,

"Vale!" the knife fell from his grip, embedding itself into the wooden floor, and the wound sealed instantly, as though he was trying to hide what he had been doing.

But it was too late for that. Vale turned away, hand clamped over her mouth, trying not to be sick. After a few minutes, stomach under control once more, she looked at him again, taking deep breaths. His head was cast slightly downwards and his expression was one of deepest, darkest shame. Vale was speechless.

Neither of them spoke for some time.

"Vale..." finally Chel began to speak, his voice so soft and quiet, "I never, never wanted you to find out."

"B-but why? Why?" Vale was nearly in tears and when she spoke again her voice was chocked, "Is it my fault?"

"I... I... Tiamet's mercy I'm so pathetic!" Vale watched as Chel placed his head in his hands. When he spoke again she had to come closer to hear his muffled voice, "Of course it's not you fault. It's mine. I am the one to blame... Oh... oh my god..." his fingers slid into his hair and a moan of despair escaped his throat.

"Chel... please don't cry," Vale sat on the edge of his bed and cupped his face in both her hands. His eyes opened,

"You see... that's the problem... I can not cry..."

"What...?" Vale frowned slightly but the winged elf had began to speak again,

"Vale... I have a lot of problems... I am sorry... but I can not be the strong guardian that you deserve... I feel that... perhaps you would be better off without me..." He withdrew from her touch and fell onto his side limply, facing the wall.

Chel closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of Vale's footstep leaving the room. He was surprised therefore to see Vale lie in between him and the wall.

"What kind of person would I be if I left you like this? Let me help you... please..." for the second time that day she hugged him to her.

"You would help me?" Chel, face-to-face with Vale, seemed to warm towards this glimmer of hope.

"How could I not? You've already done so much for me. _I love you_," she kissed him.

"Thank you..." he wisphered to her softly before leaning closer.

Their kisses were sad and sweet and tears fell freely from Vale's eyes. Yet the eyes that could not weep were the saddest there.


	13. Chapter XIII

Sleep eluded the winged elf tonight. Vale slept soundly enough, her head underneath his chin and curled up against him. She insisted on sleeping here tonight, fearing this apparant fragilaty in him. 

Chel sighed sadly. She was little more than a child, only fifty years of age. She did not know the burden she had taken up in promising to help him...

Though the winged elf hated to admit it, he feared that there was no help for him...

Taking one of his arms from Vale's waist he reached to touch his back...

* * *

_"Chel?"_

_Chel's head turned towards Vale, hands moving smoothly, tying his hair into a thick braid ready for bed. The young cleric was standing behind him, a worried expression on her face,_

_"I thought you didn't scar... after injury." Her hand reached out to touch the line of scar tissue that ran down Chel's back, between his wings, then heading in ragged line down toward his left hip. To her surprise it was as cold as ice._

_"I don't," the winged elf turned, "I've had that ever since I was a child."_

_"Do you remember how you got it?"_

_"...No"_

* * *

Liar... 

The lie was just another sin on the pale elf's conscience, just to protect Vale.

He closed his eyes... A selfish desire prevented him from removing the ultimate threat to Vale... himself... After all... she put her life in the hands of a... a...

Even after all these years he was still not certain of his sanity.

* * *

It was the cold that woke Vale. The blanket had fallen from around her and the window was open. She sat up, eyes wide. 

Chel was gone... The only thing left was a lingering warmth on the sheets and a single discarded feather on the floor.

A sound floated in from the window and Vale crawled to the end of the bed to look out.

A single, black-robed figure was crossing the inn's courtyard, white hair floating out on the breeze and wings folded behind his back. It was unmistakenly Chel. But where could he be going at this hour?

* * *

Clad in tunic and breeches Vale leapt from the inn window, lightly landing on the ground. Moving as quickly as she could she sprinted across the courtyard and vanished into the forest. 

In the wood, some instinct urged her to be quiet and she obeyed, using all the stealth she could muster. Eventually she came to a clearing surrounded by trees and thick undergrowth. In the centre of all this stood Chel and a stranger.

The stranger was female, possibly human or elven- the thick, black hair and dark mask prevented Vale from being sure. The mysterious female wore loose robes of black and red, that left the arms bare.

"You were a hard one to lure, my pretty," the female's voice was slightly muffled by the mask and Vale strained hear it, "But you came in the end... Everyone comes in the end," she reached up to stroke Chel's face, "And now you're _mine_."

A crash sounded somewhere to the right and the masked female's head snapped around. A slender figure staggered into the clearing and Vale bit back a gasp. It was Kemi.

"What...?"

The dark-haired elf raised his head and his mouth opened,

"...L... L-let him go."

"Let him go?" the masked female put her hands on her hips, "Who are you to-" Abruptly she paused then flung her head back and began to shriek with laughter, "I spend a lot of magic and resources looking for you and you just walk up to me! Priceless!"

"Let him go," repeated Kemi.

The masked female wrapped one arm around Chel's shoulders and lifted his chin with one finger,

"He is mine now. I will do with him what I please," she ran her tongue along his delicate neck. In the bushes Vale's fists clenched.

The mysterious female flung her gloved hand out and Kemi was pinned against a tree by an invisible force as she walked up to him,

"Hlal couldn't have done better than this little amusment. Right Tiamet?"

Both Vale amd Kemi/Tiamet's eyes widened. Tiamet spoke,

"Who are you?"

The female said nothing but instead reached for the clasps of her mask, drawing it from her face. The diety's jaw dropped open,

"_You!_"

Before the young cleric could do anything, before Tiamet could do anything, the masked one struck. Lines of white fire sprang from her hand and into the Lord of Dragon's body.

The fallen deity threw back his head and roared once before his body was completely obliterated.

* * *

A single tear ran down Vale's face as she saw her beloved deity die, guilt clashing with sorrow in her head. 

Abruptly her body jerked forward.

"You think you could spy on me?" the masked female's spell brought Vale to her, and her gloved hand reached out to tightened around the young cleric's throat.

Vale had been trained well though. Her assailent fell back with a shriek of rage and Vale, knife in hand, retreated, hacking and coughing.

With the young female's attack the hold that the masked one had on Chel was broken. The winged elf groaned as he came to his senses. His eyes opened just in time to see the mage's counter.

A command made the gloves twist into wickedly curved claws and, though Vale caught one of the weaponson her knife she could not stop the other.

The claws dug into Vale's undefended belly and tore their way back out, soiled with elven blood.

The cleric screamed and fell to the floor, a spreading crimson stain on the front of her tunic, her hands clutching at the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. With a demonic laugh the mage lifted her blood-stained glove to her mask's mouth slit, a gutteral cry of pleasure escaping her lips.

When something leapt over her shoulder she spoke another spell. A rope appeared around Chel's neck and made him fall backwards. The winged elf was up again instantly, desperatly trying to reach Vale, to heal her, to save her.

More rope tightened around him, pinning his arms agaisnt his chest. The magical bonds defied even his prodigious strength and Chel screamed in fustration.

With a smirk on her face the mage spoke another spell and both she and the male elf vanished.

"...Chel..." then there was only one elf left, her lifeblood soaking into the earth.

**END OF BOOK ONE**

**Jessi:** Don't worry people. Book two of the Dragon God Chronicles shall be up sometime in the next week.


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